BatsyBoy and the Trip to Find Himself
by Coriandergirl
Summary: The Dark Knight suddenly finds himself dropped in a Gotham that makes no sense. The city is bright and clean, the villians are a joke, and the people love him! Clearly, something is wrong. And who're those colorful crazies that keep popping up everywhere?


"Who are you?!" It seemed like that was all I said to the Joker these days. Who are you, what are you planning, where is the hostage/victim, and so on and so forth. Even our fights were beginning to grow typical. He would taunt me with some knowledge or threat, and in a fit of frustration, I would attack, forgetting his almost inability to feel pain. And once again, he would slip through my fingers, leaving behind only more explosives, victims, and unanswered questions.

"Ah, Batsy dearest, are you sure you want to know? Do you even know who _you_ are?" There was something different about the Joker today, almost imperceptible, unless you knew him well enough to spot it. And after countless interrogations and almost daily run-ins, I believe I more than qualify for being able to spot when he is out of character. Rather than the usual insulting quip, the clown sighed and stopped moving, his question lacking even the slightest hint of humor. As you might expect, I was taken aback by this sudden turn in behavior. And so, rather than taking the opportunity to finally capture the little beast as I should have when I had the chance, I stood as still as my opponent and watched him.

"You don't, do you? Well, I can help you with that at least!"

"Don't try anything funny, Joker-" Almost as abruptly as it had fled, the Joker's glee returned to him as he suddenly bounced right up to me, poking my breastplate with his ragged fingernail.

"Oh nonono_No_, Batsy my boy, don't think of me so! Consider it a gift, from one friend to the other! It's an all-expenses paid trip to find yourself! And don't you dare try and return it! Bon Voyage, Batsy-boy! Adieu et bonne chance! Hee hee hee hee HA!" Before I had time to react more than lean back, his disturbingly friendly poke had become a shove, taking full advantage of my confusion, sending me through some sort of opening in what had been a blank wall mere moments before. As I fell through a darkness that seemed to go on forever, my last thought was how much more natural the Joker's voice sounded when speaking French. And then I landed.

* * *

It had been yet another perfect day in Gotham City. The citizens continued about their daily lives peacefully and happily, secure in the belief that they were safe, protected by their caped guardians. Despite the recent activity in the harbor district, few doors were locked at night, and hardly anyone had any troubles falling asleep at night. Batman and Robin were on the job, so why should they worry? Why, just today, the Bat-copter could clearly be seen flying over the city, and there could be little doubt that the situation would be handled expertly and efficiently. Dr. Quinzel was just one of a vast majority who shared this belief. Imagine her surprise, then, when walking home from the Institute, she was bowled over by a figure dressed all in black that had fallen suddenly and unexpectedly out of the sky and into her path.

"Hey, mister! Watch where you're goin'! You almost fell right on top o' me! Where'd you come from, anyway, hey? …Mister? Mister!" Looking around her, Harleen realized there was nowhere the man lying on the ground before her could have fallen from. The street they were on was in the middle of the industrial district, with no balconies or even upper story windows in sight for him to have fallen from. And a leap from the roofs could have only ended in death, which the stranger's continued breathing and groans would disprove. However, that wasn't all that puzzled Harleen. Though he had fallen on his back, the man had rolled and ended up lying on his stomach, with his arms and legs splayed out, covered in some sort of armor, his head masked by a confusing mass of fabric. Gingerly standing up, Harleen switched into her professional training, ignoring her own bruises and bumps and concentrating on the figure before her.

"C'mon, mister, I know you can hear me. Oy! Are you alright?" Growing more concerned, she fell to her knees beside him, tentatively shaking his shoulder. As her initial uncertainty fell away to be replaced with outright fear for his wellbeing, Harleen emboldened herself, and pulled away the strange fabric covering his face. And immediately dropped it back over his face in shock.

"You… y-you're… No. it can't be. It's not possible!" Whispering to the trembling fingers she had covered her mouth with, the good doctor stared at the being before her.

"Batman… what happened to you?"

If a random person were to walk down the street just then, they would never be able to understand why the young woman, barely more than a girl, despite the lab-coat and nametag that identified her as a otherwise, was gaping with such a horrified expression at the black-clad figure laid out on the ground before her. They would not know that just seconds before, she had seen the one sight she had always thought was impossible. Beneath what she now knew must be a cape, Harleen had seen the unmistakable sight of the iconic cowl. Batman had been hurt, and she didn't know what to do. So she did the only thing she could think of. She called the police.

* * *

"Dick, what's the matter? Is the signal on again already? Why are you looking at me like that?" Bruce had come running into the room when I'd shouted, almost barreling into Alfred, who I'm sure was looking at him in the same way.

"Bruce! It's the TV! The news anchor just said that Batman was admitted into Gotham Central Hospital, and was reported as being in dire conditions!" as I explained, my voice broke. It always does that when I get stressed.

"But, Dick, I'm right here. I never left…" Obviously confused, Bruce looked at me questioningly, but was quickly distracted at the TV announcer continued.

"…sources report that the young woman who found him is actually one of the staff of Arkham Institute. In the interest of protecting Batman's identity, Gotham Central Director, Anthony Darp, promises that his mask will remain intact and on his face throughout the procedures. When asked for further comments, Commisioner Gordon declined to add any information. It is believed that Gotham PD is currently looking for Batman's sidekick, Robin. Hopefully, he is in a better condition than the Caped Crusader. Back to you, Laura."

One thing I've always admired about my adopted father is his ability to take a situation that most would balk at, and immediately begin figuring it through; making sensible and rational conclusions out of what appears an impossible mess of insanity. Whether dealing with a particularly ambitious admirer or one of his masked adversaries, I have yet to see Bruce lose control of a situation. Today was no exception. Moving swiftly and surely, he switched off the set and pressed the hidden button inside the bust, opening the hatch to the Bat-cave. Without saying a word, I followed him in silence, wondering as the Instant Costume Changer worked its magic what Bruce could be thinking. Certainly, Gotham's super-criminals have hatched all sorts of nefarious plots against him before, but they had never tried pretending to be him before. And even if they were to do so, how could they get so injured that they would be admitted into the hospital before anyone even called the Bat-phone? Jumping out of the access tube, I turned to him, and asked him the question that must have been burning in my eyes.

"Batman? What are we going to do?"

"Well, Robin, _we_ are not going to do a whole lot. Bruce Wayne has no place in the Batman's hospital room. However, Robin would not only be accepted, but expected to arrive at his hero's side! I'm relying on you to get close to this imposter and discover what his intentions are!"

"Holy Stratagem, Batman! What do you want me to say to him?" I suppose I understand that we couldn't just blast in there and proclaim the imposter for what is he is, but the idea of going in alone unsettles me a bit. I believe my sentiment was shared though, because even Bruce was looking a bit worried.

"Never fear, my young companion. Batman may be unable to accompany you, but Bruce Wayne is known to take the occasional drive through town. Perhaps tonight's drive will happen to carry him past a certain hospital?" For all his joking winks and smiles, Bruce couldn't hide his worry from me. Someone had introduced an unknown element into our city tonight, and neither of us knew just quite how to handle it.

"Alright…Bruce. But make sure to bring your Bat-radio, because if there's any serious trouble, I'm calling you in on the double, and I'd prefer you were able to hear!"

"Never fear, Robin! I won't desert you in this, our hour of need! Now, away we must go!" And so saying, he quickly changed back into his secret identity, and away we went.

* * *

Ugh. This was just going to be one of those nights, wasn't it? As I came back to full consciousness, it was to the realization that I was in a hospital. _'How did I allow this to happen? Dammit, it's going to be impossible to keep my secret now!'_ Despite my constant work to keep them safe, the people of Gotham have never accepted my presence in their city, constantly looking for an excuse to prosecute or otherwise attempt to stop me. If I had been admitted to a hospital, then I must have truly been out of it—easy prey to anyone curious enough to peek under the mask, despite my precautions. A determined seeker could remove my shield of anonymity fairly easily. And yet... _'My mask—it's still on! But, why?'_

As I inspected my mask, checking to see whether it truly had not been tampered with, I contemplated what its intact condition might mean. _'It doesn't make any sense. Not even an hour ago, I was dodging Gotham PD's attempts to capture me, and now I'm lying in a hospital bed, without even so much as a pair of cuffs? What is going on? And why am I still here?'_ With this thought, I sat up, only to freeze as I realized two very important details. First: there was a very good reason I was lying on that bed—my entire right side felt as though I had been clipped by a passing train. I would be lucky if I could hobble out of my room, let alone fight any criminals for at least the next week. Second: I was not the only person in the room. Staring at me with a mixture of fear and disbelief was a young boy, clad in the most ridiculous costume. Tights, a cape, and some silly sort of belt, all in loud shades of red, green, and yellow blazed across the space that separated me from the window, my preferred escape route.

I'm not quite sure why, but after meeting his gaze, I was unable to break that link of contact with the colorful character in my room. Was he the reason that no one had tried to unmask me? His strange garb invoked memories of Halloween and ballet, but he wore it with the same aura of pride and seriousness that I bear my own armor. Unblinking, hardly breathing, we both watched each other, he unmoving, me slowly straightening up and removing the various catheters and monitoring devices the doctors had managed to wedge underneath my armor. (Don't ask me how they did it. All they had removed were my gloves, and yet, I found those little tubes and wires all over my chest…) It was only when I swiveled around to place my (still-booted) feet on the floor that he acted. Taking a steadying breath, he stepped forward and addressed me in the oddest way.

"Don't move imposter! Your game is up. The real Batman is just outside, and he is not going to let you get away with your dastardly plot! It would be better for you to just give up and surrender to the police! I don't want to have to forcibly restrain a person in your obviously injured condition!"

The boy was ordering me to surrender without even a threat! What, he just expected me to give in to his superior color coordination? And what the hell did he mean, the "real Batman"?!?!? I _am_ the Batman! Narrowing my eyes, I assessed the situation. Clearly, I had to remove myself from this situation, preferably without damaging the obviously delusional boy before me. Perhaps engaging him in conversation would allow me to distract him enough to escape? And maybe get some questions answered…

"What game might that be? And who is this 'real Batman' of which you speak? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're talking about." Whatever he was expecting me to do, my growled response was not it. Visibly flinching from the sound of my voice, he seemed unsettled by the situation. _'Why does he assume that I will have any respect for him? Who _is_ this person?'_

"Obviously, you are trying to confound me with your questions. But I am not fooled! I know Batman, and you sir, are most definitely _not_ he!" Amazingly enough, he really seemed to believe what he was saying. How could this be? Obviously, he could not know the Batman, because I know I have never met him. And he still had not solved any of my mysteries.

My patience was wearing thin, and every second I wasted trying to get information from this troubled boy was another second lost that I could be making my way back to the hidden safety of the newly rebuilt Batcave and Wayne Manor. I had reached the level of desperation where I could not put up with any more waiting. Moving quickly, I dispatched with the boy efficiently, putting out the lights with several small explosives and breaking a sleep capsule under his nose in moments. In the instant between the darkness and his fall into unconsciousness, I could have sworn I heard the crackle of a radio, but it was over and I was out of there so quickly that no back-up could have been called in time. Though the fact that the strange boy might have a radio to call in said back-up was both confusing and troubling. Just one more mystery to add to tonight's list.

As I stepped out the window, I thanked whatever infinite wisdom invented adrenaline. Without it, I would never have been able to get out of that room, let alone swing my way through the darkened and oddly quiet city. Of course, I knew I had to move fast, because soon my body would lose the rush of excitement, and I would pay the price. I just hoped I would find my car first.

* * *

Every moment, Bruce's horror grew as he watched the interaction between his protégé and the imposter who had dared to try and pose as himself. Whoever it was seemed armed to the teeth, and able to handle a tank with ease, never mind an innocent young crime-fighter like Robin. Stomach sinking, he began standing up, about to Batarang down from his vantage point on the building overlooking Gotham Central and come to his sidekick's aid when the fake suddenly went into action, breaking the lights and incapacitating Robin before he had the chance to do more than press the alarm button of his radio, setting off the unneeded alarm from its twin on Bruce's belt. He was fully aware of the emergency.

Springing into action, he set out to trail after the imposter, keeping pace with him from the rooftops above. Clearly, the stranger was injured, and going slowly. However, Bruce wanted to see where he was returning to. He had to scrap this plan, however, when his quarry turned down the very alley had hidden the Batmobile in. Swinging down from his heights, he touched the ground just in time to see the fake collapse on the ground, his legs giving out underneath him.

Approaching cautiously, Bruce stepped forward and knelt down to be on a closer level. The man was far from unconscious. But that was easily dealt with. He was in no state for a fight, and beside a struggling attempt to move away from Bruce, he seemed to take the Bat-gas almost willingly, as if he knew when to accept when he was truly beat. Or maybe he was just so surprised at the sight of the real Batman before him that he didn't know what else to do. In any event, he was apprehended and, after collecting Robin from the hospital, the Dynamic Duo headed back to the Batcave in all haste with their prisoner, determined to discover once and for all what foul treachery was afoot.

* * *

Back in his hideout, the Joker laughed maniacally as he worked to cover up the opening in the wall that hadn't been there before, but which he would leave there until the game grew boring. Oh, teaching stubborn bats is hard work, but fun!


End file.
